"My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplaces of existence." ― Sir Arthur Conan Doylen, Sherlock Holmes
hello    bookmarks     archive     bloglovin    shop    home

January 6, 2017

January 6: STORY 1: Philadelphia

More about the 20 Days of Chill over here

Fiction: Mae and Dash - part 1

Mae Tilly drops her arm on the side of her bed to pet her cat Philadelphia, Philly for short, but Philly isn't there. She opens her eyes to check under the bed but no Philly. She has no idea where Philly goes when he is not around but she is certain he goes somewhere.
It is another Friday and Mae doesn't want to hurry. Fridays has always been her favorite day but not lately.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Six months earlier, one of Mae's schemes turned badly. Mae had this idea of offering her babysitting services for witches' cats. With her best friend Maz 'Dash' Herbert, they went from house to house with flyers and smiles though Dash refused to smile.

On one of those visits, she met an old witch. The witch lived in an rickety house just outside of town. Upon stepping on her front porch, three black cats appeared.

Mae raised a hand to pick up the metal ring but Dash put a hand on her arm and shook his head and said, "Not this house." But Mae just pushed his hand away. "I need to do this." She pulled at the metal ring and banged it three times against the wooden door. There were three echoes inside the house but no respond.

Dash turned to leave and Mae was about follow but then the door creaked open. The old woman stopped at the doorframe. "What is it you want?" The voice sounded like it came from a deep hollow. When daylight fell upon her face, Mae saw the wrinkles and beneath the crooked nose were thin lips. But it was her eyes - an odd shade of bright violet - that caught Mae's eyes. She smiled at the woman and looked her in the eye. "I am Mae Tilly. My friend and I are offering our services to watch your cats while you're away."

"I need no such service." The old woman stood hardly moving.

"Yes. Okay. I'll just leave this flyer." Mae pulled out a home-made flyer from her schoolbag and held it out to the woman.

The woman reached out with a wrinkled hand from within her black cloak. She lightly took the paper. But said nothing as she stared at Mae.

Dash had walked far from the porch and he stood watching.

"Thank you, m'am," Mae said and headed toward Dash, careful to walk around the cats.

"Wait!" It was the old woman calling.

Mae turned and speed-walked the few steps back onto the porch. "Yes?" Mae was beginning to get creeped out by the old woman's stare. She turned a little to look at Dash who had not moved from his spot. He was looking at her with a 'What the hell' expression. Mae turned back to the woman.

"I would like you to be my apprentice. As you may know, I am a witch, a very old one. There are many things I could teach you that your school could not."

Mae thought that was generous but she knew her mother would not approve. As Mae looked at the witch, she wondered if perhaps she could go to school and be an apprentice but when she turned to look at Dash, he was shaking his head. He had always had good hearing.

"Thank you for the offer, m'am, but I'm sorry, I will have to decline. My mother would not approve." Mae smiled and turned to leave.

"You may regret this. I am the best witch there ever is. Mae Tilly, you will regret this! Remember my words!"

Mae heard the witch's shouting but she did not turn around. She was freaked and she knew if she would to turn around, she would see something she does not want to remember. Dash was already walking farther down the street. When she caught up with him, he just gave her a small grin.

Afterward, when she heard nothing from the witch, Mae began to wonder if the old witch might have died.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Last Friday, Mae woke in the middle of night and her parents were gone. All she found was a piece of paper with the witch's neat black handwriting: 

Mae Tilly, I have your parents. Come to my house just before midnight on Halloween or else you will never see your parents again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Note: This will be a four part series so look for the other parts on Fridays. And also, this story came about when I created this artwork.


  1. I have been enjoying your fiction...can't wait to see where this leads.

  2. I am definitely intrigued. I can see how the artwork led to this story. You have a way with visual art and words that I respond to.

  3. Oh my gosh that is AWESOME!!!!! What an incredible idea.... I can't wait to see where this goes. :)

  4. Well now this is an interesting story. I look forward to the next installment.


"To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it." -- Kurt Vonnegut

This blog is powered by Blogger, fairytales, sleeping princes, moon cakes, express trains, faraway friends, a lost memory, a princess dragon, cold weather, the color mint, friendly giants, and the rain. Thank you for visiting & have a lovely day.

All artwork & photography by lb (lissablue) unless otherwise stated. If you use one of my creations, please credit a link to this blog. thank you.